


what have they done to you

by symposiums



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Cottagecore, F/F, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24271513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symposiums/pseuds/symposiums
Summary: could it taste better than a memory? would it dare to?inspired by @mewniart on instagram
Relationships: Eclipsa Butterfly/Moon Butterfly/Globgor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	what have they done to you

The ground smelled of a richness that reminded her of old kingdoms; her grandmother had taken her out into the woods one day and showed her the stillness of nature. She picked at the edge of her dress, listening to the scratch of charcoal against thick paper.

Her grandmother never said much and after that, she never saw her again. It was the last time she had watched the translucent green and vibrant orange and pinks that were the color of sunrise for hours on end, still, unmoving, unnerved. It had rained the night before. Everything was so green it overwhelmed her. Nothing was meant to look like that. Anything that smelled like rotting earth and monstrous flora was not meant to exist. Those that lurked within it twisted her life into a nightmare — and the thought of ever being in beautiful, horrific woods again terrorized her.

Decay lay all around her: rotted trees, the bodies of animals headless with legs sticking in the air, fur and feather still attached, It had rained the night before and the scent of the earth filled her nostrils like a sickly sweet perfume.

Before her, Eclipsa led, touching every piece of moss-covered tree she could find. The air was heavy, but the shade offered relief — and when the wind rustled through the leaves like a passing ghost, she thought it a dream.

Eclipsa’s steps were deliberate. She actively avoided stepping onto twigs, taking care to not have them snap under her foot, and climbed large logs with a grace. Moon watched her with a careful, observant eye. Her grandmother never climbed that day — she didn’t weave through thicket like a strategist, but when she saw Moon staring into the murky water, her grandmother dipped her feet in in silence. Moon watched, gathered, observed and sat cross-legged on the ground instead.

Who was she to interact with nature? Who was she to be a part of it when it never welcomed her? And here, as Eclipsa found herself wandering with brambles in her hair, a prosol tucked under her arm, something ached within Moon: a loss, a need, a distant feeling in the pit of her stomach that made her feel like a hazy outsider to it all.

“You have to look for oak trees,” Eclipsa spoke, scanning the forest. A gloved finger pointed to a sea of dead trees lying together like old lovers. “Rotted ones, preferably. Elms are a good place to check too.”

“Elms?” Moon answered in a daydream. Her eyes scanned the forest as well— avoiding looking at the rot for too long. She tried to figure which of the dozens of trees would look like it would carry such a smooth name full of brevity. She imagined it low to the ground, always listening, humming along to what it hears though there was nothing like that in these woods.

“They look quite intriguing,” she spoke with a cadence of amusement. Eclipsa craned her head until she turned to Moon. Her eyes lifted upwards, catching a glint of sunlight in the amber; her heart eased. Eclipsa smiled until her eyes nearly closed.

Moon turned her body halfway; she observed the russet lines of the tree as they split in two. Her face grew warm at where the two split off gathering what Eclipsa meant: two legs reaching upward met at the center below.

Eclipsa chuckled, catching the rose creeping up along Moon’s neck. “They’re typically at the base - or quite closeby.”

“Where did you learn all of this?” Moon reached out to touch the three. It felt brittle, as if it would fall apart at the touch but it remained standing.

“My mother taught me.” Eclipsa began toward the oaks; Moon remained in her spot looking down at the bare ground. She found it strange how barren it looked, as dirt covered the entire forest. It looked blackened — by a fire perhaps?

Eclipsa disappeared behind a tree; she could hear her voice as if it were surrounding every part of the forest, letting the chill of her presence in the vast woods run up and down her spine.

“We always went to look for mushrooms when the season was right. Alphonse was the first one to tell her and brought her to the forest one day. Then I came along soon after.”

“What’s so special about these mushrooms?” Moon crouched down to look at the ground. The dirt shifted like grains of sand beneath her fingers.

“Your mother never used them?”

Moon tried to recall any foraged mushrooms in the castle’s kitchen. She could only think of bright reds and dark greens — savory pies filling the hallways of the castle. No, there were never any mushrooms from what she could recall. Were they so far in monster territory for her mother to dare find?

“No. I don’t.” She stood up; sweat loomed on the back of her neck. Her braid hung over her shoulder as she tried to find Eclipsa in the wild. 

“Most of them are — were — in monster territory. Of course, that never stopped my mother from spending hours in the woods to find them.”

She could hear Eclipsa heaving herself over a log. Her feet touched the ground with a quiet thump. “They’re marvelous. I can’t really explain them… Imagine-” she paused. “Imagine the greatest meal you have ever had. Multiply that by quite a few times.”

Moon envisioned the feasts from the castle: the multitude of corn dishes that she pretended to never tire of; all bland, all mush, nothing more than an emptiness that only filled temporarily when she felt hunger. When she recalled her mother’s pies, there was a spark: something she wondered truly existed out there or if her memory lied to her, warped it into something she could never find again. Could it taste better than a memory?

Would it dare to?

Moon walked around in silence. At her feet, she found a pile of acorns scattered about - some sank into the ash, others fell fresh off the tree.

An oak, her grandmother had drawn one. It was not one they saw that day, but a piece she found years later tucked away in an errant book about herbs in the land of monsters. Had her mother left that there?

Eclipsa grunted, hauling herself over another moss-covered log. She imagined the sweat on her brow, a touch of sun splashing her cheeks which left her chest feeling tight. Sometimes, she felt like she didn’t deserve all of this and other times, she wondered if it was some sort of punishment. She thought of the smooth white of Eclipsa’s thighs as she maneuvered her legs across the log and thought of Globgor’s soft gaze despite his desire to consume her, mirroring her own.

Her eyes swept the ground again, lingering in the thoughts of lovers when she spotted something growing out of the ash: white and tan, pruned.

“Oh!” Moon called out in surprise. “I found one!”

“Really?” She could envision a giddy schoolgirl; it wasn’t the grown woman she was familiar with. Eclipsa stepped over soft soil and arrived quicker than Moon expected. She jumped when she felt Eclipsa pressed against her back with a hand placed on her shoulder.

“That’s it!” She whispered, fascinated. Moon turned ever so slightly. The gentle hum of her breath caressed her cheek. Eclipsa’s eyes were wide, enthralled. She caught a glimpse of the Prince of Darkness in the smile of the former queen.

The sound of a knife being unsheathed made Moon stand stiff; she waited, as she always did. The mushroom was cut from the stem, taken from the earth. She felt a creeping anxiety well within her; cut from the earth, to be devoured -- yet how enticing it was to be here and know its taste.

“Here.” Eclipsa held it out delicately, as if it were the first time she ever set eyes on a mushroom.

Moon’s thin fingers took the gift. It felt heavy and rubbery in her palm. The grotesque thing lied there like it hadn’t put up any sort of fight at all. Did she really have no interest — or did it call to her in a way she hated to admit? A fire burned so that everything could grow; days at home were long, but at the loss of everything else.

She could smell the pungent aroma— almost metallic, not quite earthy. It was balmy, unearthed from the depths. What would it taste like? Rich? Sweet? Like the taste of leftover perfume at the end of the day as her tongue glides against Eclipsa’s collarbone. A hint of rose lingering, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Oh!” Eclipsa’s gloved hand pointed to another hidden amongst the tree. A small pattern of leftover leaves were scattered about the edge of the base. There, it blended in with the color of the earth, but sure enough — there it stood.

She cut it from the stem, bringing it to her nose. Moon watched her shoulders rise, envisioning her eyes closing and falling into some far off memory more than she could ever understand. She saw it in fragments, trying to fit the fearsome Solaria in as a patient mother, searching for mushrooms. 

Was there an opposite side to her own mother that one could not envision? An anger, a rage?

Eclipsa turned, tucking the mushroom away. “Moon. Sweetie?” She stepped closer. The smell of sweat and flowers rushed around her. “Are you alright?”

Moon smiled down at her, not quite understanding the feeling within her. She felt childish and lost. “I’m fine,” she whispered.

A gloved hand touched her cheek as if she were something fragile and when Eclipsa did it, she wanted to be. Through patches of sunlight and damp earth, they stood still; they remained frozen in time here. All Moon wanted was to be kissed, caressed, loved by more than one. The prospect of nature and mushrooms — of exploring dark places with creatures once feared by her former people — left her wanting to be with the two overlooking the sunset, curled into each other, sweat thick and heart heavy.

Eclipsa kissed the corner of her mouth, kissed her cheek, her jaw— slowly, softly, with fervor. Moon’s hand fell to her hip, pushing her against the trunk as they shared an open-mouthed kiss. The heat was stifling, her mind swirled in confusion. Eclipsa let a low moan as Moon dipped a hand underneath her skirt, drawing out a side of herself that perhaps she would prefer to hide.

“Hello darlings!” Globgor grinned at the two as they stood in the doorway to the house. Eclipsa’s cheeks glowed a dusty red from the sun as she removed her hat, letting her hair tumble down and the brambles with it. The home became alive — larger than life in her presence. Moon seemed to feel the flowers growing brighter and the wood of the interior sighing with comfort.

Eclipsa’s greeting overshadowed Moon’s quiet hello. Globgor seemed to notice, but instead he gave her the space — a gesture she welcomed in this strange jigsaw of a life.

“How was the hunt?”

“Oh, we found quite a bit.” She showed their collective gathering, enough to satisfy the three of them for a brief sitting. Moon smelled the aroma of chamomile and lemon balm — herbs hand-picked from their garden and brewed into a tea in the late spring sunset. It made her feel as if she was enveloped in the arms of her mother who always smelled of the freshest herbs.

“We got a bit distracted though,” Eclipsa cast a sly glance over to her. A blush creeped over Moon’s face as she stared between the two of them, wide-eyed. When Globgor laughed, she turned her face away to hide the growing flush.

“Ah, yes. The forest has a mind of its own, does it not? It’s enough to make you feel… primal.”

Moon thumbed at the ribbon on her sunhat as she held it firm in her hands. Primal, the word gaped like a chasm. Primal was bad, primal killed her mother, primal was monstrous. Her mother refused to use that word — primal, savage; monsters were more than that. _Sometimes,_ she said to her one day as she tiredly waited for a pie to finish cooking, _Sometimes I wonder if Mewman’s are truly the primal ones_.

A hand touched her arm and Eclipsa’s presence drew her to the cottage awash in golden light; orange squares lined the walls from the blaze in the windows. Moon turned, smiled, and placed her hand on Eclipsa’s. Cool lips pressed against her cheek and she felt a familiar tail wrap around her and pull her in with Eclipsa at her side.

The affection was overwhelming; it made her ache, it scared her. She hardened herself away from it for so long and yet, she yearned. The yearn to be enveloped in Eclipsa’s arms, to feel claws against her shoulder in between comfort and thrill, she longed to always be kissed on the face, kissed with mouths parted. She let Eclipsa lead, she let Globgor lead and it terrified her. Who were they to be so affectionate? Who were they to let her take it?

Moon let a wave of sadness wash over her. She wanted to wash her face, drink her tea, crawl under the covers until it was just before dawn. Everything felt like a dream and she thought, perhaps her dreams would be reality instead.

Arms wrapped around her neck as Eclipsa pushed her closer to Globgor. She was between them and the heat of their warm skin stifled her. She allowed it: she allowed the hurt to rise up. She allowed herself the softness of Eclipsa’s body in her arms and the strength of Globgor’s against the frame of her back.

She wanted to cry, but she didn’t.


End file.
